CHAPTER 16 ALEXIS
“Hi, Danny!” I answer brightly when I see he’s calling.
It’s my first time alone all day, and I locked myself in my bedroom closet when I sent the text to him since it’s soundproof.
I just wanted to hear his voice, and when he speaks his greeting, I’m not disappointed.
“Hey, Lex.” His voice is all sexy and raspy, and it pulses an ache right between my thighs.
“I saw you caught the final out to win the game today,” I say proudly. “Way to go. Good game.”
That’s right. I found time to watch the end of the game, and seeing him on the television standing beside first base in that uniform definitely did something to me.
Tingles.
Everywhere.
Exploding.
“Thanks,” he says with modesty. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Same. How was your day?” I sink down on the luxe bench in the middle of my closet.
When I say I’m locked in my closet, it’s not like I’m locked in a tiny box.
This room is probably bigger than most normal bedrooms, and it’s ridiculous with its lights and mirrors everywhere, a white tufted leather bench situated in the middle of the room.
I didn’t pick out the house or the décor, but my money paid for it.
And it may be ridiculous, but I do love every inch of this room, from the plush carpets to the huge crystal chandelier.
My father gifted me with huge frames for each one of my songs that hit number one, and they’re hanging all over the room.
Shelves line the walls intermittently between the frames, and my shoes and handbags are neatly organized on them.
Racks of clothes that are switched out monthly stand freely on one side of the room, and a huge vanity with all my make-up is on the other side.
This is the one room where I feel like I can be myself.
It’s also the one room Brooks never really enters.
He never really enters my bedroom, either, but I always worry he’s on the other side of my door listening to my every word.
So I come in here when I want to get away from him—or from anyone else, for that matter.
“We got the win and now I’m talking to you, so I can’t complain.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” I say.
“I mean it. I can’t wait to see you again on Monday.” His voice gets all low and raspy again.
“I can’t wait, either. You know…because bacon and donuts.”
“Right. Me too. Not because I want my lips on yours again. Or more.”
“More?” I squeak, as if the thought of his lips on mine again has left my mind since that first kiss.
“Oh yeah. Definitely more.” There goes that low voice, and hell if it’s not a direct line to my vagina when he talks like that.
The ache is real, and I’m not sure it’s something I’ve ever felt before. Even with Steven, the sex was good, but he didn’t make me feel that sort of need like I feel around Danny. Maybe because we were just friends, but with Danny…emotions are involved.
He doesn’t do commitment. I realize that, and I’m not asking him to commit. I can’t commit right now, either—not when I’m leaving for tour. Not when I’m publicly dating someone else.
But my emotions are definitely twisted up right now, and my body is screaming for Danny Brewer.
Maybe I just need to have sex with him to get him out of my brain, but somehow I think that will only make me want him more.
“Like what?” My voice is still all squeaky and high.
He chuckles. “I guess we’ll wait for Monday to find out.”
I know who he is. He’s Danny Brewer. He’s a womanizer. He’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em type.
He doesn’t need to go on a few dates before he screws a girl.
He’s had more than one sexual partner.
And I suddenly wonder how I’ll ever measure up—how I’ll ever be enough for him when he’s been with women so much more experienced than me.
I don’t think I can measure up in that scenario. If he’s just after the one time, I’m afraid he’ll leave disappointed.
And that’s why I don’t think I can have sex with him on Monday.
I don’t want to be just another woman he screws before he shoos. I have a big tour coming up, and I can’t go on that tour wondering what the hell is going on between us. So that is what I need out of Monday. Clarity, I suppose.
“Are you at the team hotel?” I ask, changing the subject rather abruptly.
He chuckles a little. “No. I’m actually staying at my mom’s house.”
Oh dear Lord. What is this man doing to me? I’m back to thinking we should bang it out on Monday.
“My sister and two nephews are here, too. I just had a really nice talk with my sister.”
“I love that,” I say. “You don’t have to stay with the team?”
“Nah. Team vets can get permission, and Troy and I have known each other long enough that he trusts I’m actually hanging with my mother. He figures I’m less likely to get in trouble here than if I was at the team hotel, anyway.”
I laugh. “Do you get yourself into a lot of trouble?”
“Pick a day and read the headlines,” he says, and I can hear the merriment in his tone as he pokes fun at himself. “I wouldn’t say trouble as much as fun, but others might disagree with that assessment.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? Aside from, you know, forgetting that woman’s name.” I can’t help the jab. The thought of it is so foreign to me, I guess.
“Probably smoke a joint on the team bus during our welcome parade. Cooper was not happy with me.”
“You smoke weed?” I ask.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No!” I exclaim.
“Jesus, you have a lot to learn. I’ll corrupt you yet.” His tone is dead serious, and I think I like the idea of being corrupted by him.
Except I can’t like that idea, and my father’s voice in my head is the clear reminder I didn’t ask for. You’re America’s sweetheart, and you must act in that role at all times.
I can’t just go out with a baseball player and get high. I can’t smoke marijuana—I can’t smoke anything because it could mess with my voice. But he’s the bad boy of baseball.
If I’m going to start something with him, I can’t expect him to change.
We’re opposites. The bad boy and the good girl.
And there’s something addicting about him already.
Maybe he can corrupt me in secret and nobody ever has to know.
“I can’t wait to be corrupted,” I admit.
I just hope I’m not making a huge mistake I can’t come back from.